


I'll Be Alright

by WhisperingWillows



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, amplified by the engine, gift for a tumblr person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 11:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17445764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingWillows/pseuds/WhisperingWillows
Summary: Sometimes, the ache of the rope Gluskin forced around his neck comes back to haunt him. Waylon Park gets some help dealing with the hallucinations and emotions that come from the vicious memories of Mount Massive and of Eddie Gluskin's death.-For @milestofu on tumblr for the #outlastsecretsanta event! Their original santa didn't come through. I hope this works!





	I'll Be Alright

It sneaks up on Waylon any time it likes.

This coarseness around his neck, and suddenly he can’t breathe. No matter how much he tries to rationalize it, to tell himself the nightmare is over and what’s happening isn’t real, it doesn’t go away on his own. The panic sent him scratching like mad to rid himself something that’s not there.

Beside his bed, Waylon choked on his own breath, eyes shut tight because he knows if he opens them, he’ll be right back in that place, that horrible place. The rational part of his mind scolds and screams. He just needed to ride the feeling out, but the urge to fight and flail and try to scream is more than overpowering.

It shouldn’t be this violently bad. He should be able to take in air, right? It’s the engine, still affecting him long after he got away from it.

He wants an end by any means by now. A part of him thinks he’s gonna die, and he would welcome it.

“Waylon!”

It’s the Walrider’s effect, cutting through the static as Waylon opened his eyes to see Miles in the opened door. He’s so displaced in the dark vision of Mount Massive, perceived shadows not taking his interrupting figure into account in the forged memory. He dived down to his side, prying his hands from his neck.

They’re so cold, always cold, but the mild shock actually helps in this situation. It’s grounding. 

“Look at me, Park. I’m here, and I’m real.”

He hauled him to his knees, letting Waylon lean into him as he managed to finally get in a desperate gasp. “I can’t...I can’t get out. I want to get out,” he panted, fingers digging into Miles’ jacket sleeves and face hidden in his shirt. “I’m stuck...Miles, it’s dark. I can’t take it!”

“When did you and Lisa get married?”

“What?”

“Your anniversary. When is it?”

He took a moment to respond. “We...we got married on Valentine’s Day...Cheesy, right?” His voice shook.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m not gonna lie, that’s pretty tacky. Ah...what about your boys, huh? When are their birthdays?”

“...Joel was born...March 2nd, and Ollie was born...shit...he was born in August. I don’t…”

“When!”

“The 16th,” he managed. “He was born on August 16th. I remember...traffic was bad that day and Lisa ended up giving birth in the car.” Waylon laughed, or tried to. It was so strained. “She was so pissed when an ambulance finally got through.”

“I can see that. What...What about the time I spilled dinner on that white blouse she likes? I don’t think even the Walrider could’ve protected me then if she wanted to try re-killing me.”

The laughter this time is more genuine, if a little warbled. “I-I swear...There was smoke coming from her ears.”

Miles didn’t ask anything else after, just letting Waylon clean to him. His breathing had finally eased into a sense of calm. 

“...I killed him.”

“Who?”

“Eddie...Eddie Gluskin. I killed him.”

Miles bobbed his head. “Yeah, I know, but it wasn’t your fault, y’know? It was self defense. You or him, and I’m glad it was you that came out of that situation.”

“It’s not just that.” He pulled back, gaze angled down at the floor. It had gone back to that dirty motel carpeting over the cold, stone floor that he saw moments ago. “But when it happened, I thought that was it. I’d been running from him on my...on my fucked leg!” His hand drifted to the stump below his knee. He’d just taken his prosthetic off for the evening before the flashback hit. “And it was over so fast...Fuck, I dunno...He was dead, and it was my fault, and I felt...so good about it.”

Remembering made him feel sick.

“He put me through hell. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get away from him. He was in every corner, behind every door...everywhere. When I was finally safe, at least from him, there was this rush of relief and joy...I barely noticed until I caught myself halfway through a laugh. My first reaction to a dead man was to laugh, Miles…”

Miles wasn’t the best for providing any kind of emotional comfort. The difference between grounding Waylon out of a panic attack and talking him through a crisis was all too different.

But he could try.

“I mean, if you know that’s a bad reaction, I think you’re fine. I don’t know anyone who could face what we did and come out as okay as they entered. The whole situation was just...fucked beyond either of our imaginations.”

“And I feel so bad for so many of them. All these people needing help and only having their problems turned into nightmares, but Gluskin? He was a murderer even before this place touched him. He kidnapped and tortured these poor women to death, and I watched him kill the other men at the asylum. I know he deserved what he got, and I hope he’s rotting in hell. I just...I shouldn’t have fucking laughed!”

Miles took him into his arms again.

“Look, man, I can’t...I can’t ever say that you’ll get past how you’re feeling. I regret so much of what happened on my end, but...try to focus on the positive things, alright? You’re able to talk about this stuff...that’s gotta mean you’re healing, right? We...both are. In our own ways. It’s always gonna be hard, but you have people that need you to around. Like Lise, and you’re boys, and, hell, me. You make me feel a lot more normal than I ever could on my own.”

Waylon looked to his eyes. Sometimes he couldn’t stand seeing how dead they looked. Gluskin’s death wasn’t the only thing he felt guilty about. Right now, though, they gave him a cursory bit of comfort.

“I know...I know...Thank you.” He rubbed his neck and winced. The skin under his fingers was red and scraped from the ceaseless scratching. He was permanently scarred from the same hallucination. “For being here for me, and for being you.”

He was so tired now. Waylon was already getting into bed when the visions hit, but the whole ordeal left him exhausted in every definition of the word. “I...I think I’m okay now. I just wanna sleep...Just sleep. Help me up?”

Waylon tried not to ask for help too much. He didn’t care enough about that now, though. Miles obliged and helped him get back in bed, turning to leave before Waylon called him back.

“Look, I know you don’t sleep, but...if you could just stick around until I doze off, just until then, I’d consider it a big favor.”

He didn’t really say anything. Miles just took off his jacket and crawled under the covers beside him, wrapping his arms around his middle. “This good?”

It’s so nice being near another person, and Lisa wasn’t around. Miles was a fine substitute, if a bit awkward about the situation. “Yeah. That’s good.”

He could be okay. He could recover.


End file.
